


terminus a quo, terminus ad quem

by randomprose



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Kuroo Tetsurou, Aged-Up Tsukishima Kei, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Doctor!Kuroo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Crossdressing, Reunited lovers, Supermodel!Tsukishima, because I couldn't write these two with a sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomprose/pseuds/randomprose
Summary: kuroo and tsukishima and the repeated attempts of a beginning or an end





	

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, this was supposed to be a one-shot 1k+ drabble that turned into a 10k+ word vomit fic. Purely self-indulgent. Might have some mistakes and plot holes and honestly, I think I kinda butchered the ending because I wanted to end it sad but I can't because I am a fucking sap. Also, it's past 2AM where I'm at and I just really want to get this off my hands because I've been working for this for over a month now and I just want/need to get started on other projects. 
> 
>  
> 
> Doctor!Kuroo, Supermodel!Tsukki – inspired by Rosemary and Dick’s reunion in Tender is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

 

He saw him before he could place him.

Paris is the last place he thinks of when meeting the person he once thought the world of. 

Across the fancy marble lobby of the _Hôtel Barrière Le Fouquet's_ stood Tsukishima Kei in all his six foot tall glory, still as brilliant and shiny and beautiful as the first time Kuroo laid his eyes on him.

By some force of nature and by some invisible pull that has always been present whenever they are in the same vicinity, Tsukishima turns his head to where he is standing by the concierge. Kuroo sees the momentary shock in those golden eyes before they softened in quiet resignation. There is the feeling that he somehow expected to see him, as if he is not even surprised that Kuroo is standing in the same busy lobby hotel in Paris as he is.

Tsukishima excuses himself from his conversation and Kuroo holds his breath, straightens himself, as the blonde approaches him. Long legs striding purposefully across polished marble, eyes never leaving Kuroo’s, and he had the sudden urge to meet him in the middle and start all over again.

 _"You_ would turn up here of all the people in the world.”

“Hello to you, too.”

Tsukishima looks every bit the shining star that he is. Kuroo didn’t know it was possible for the blonde to be more stunning for each year that passed but here he is, five years later and Kuroo still couldn’t believe someone as beautiful like him could possibly exist. He still has that coldness about him, aloof and untouchable, his skin still as pale and milky as ever. The light make up on his face makes his contradicting features—the soft curves of his cheek, the roundness of his eyes, the sharp slope of his nose and his defined jaw—blend well together more under the glow of the chandelier lights. His smile is still small but his eyes held the same wicked glint they’ve always had and Kuroo is still a weak man.

A gloved hand closes over his on the front desk, long slender fingers discreetly slipping him a card under his palm.

“I have a photo shoot at the studio near the Louvre. They’re still ironing out the details and we might move locations but I’m not yet sure.”

Kuroo looked at their hands by the front desk. He is suddenly made aware of himself—straight from a flight from Tokyo, sleep deprived and unshaven. Tsukishima didn’t seem to take this all in as he is in a rush and is being called again.

“I have to go. The shoot is at eleven and I might be back by three. Call me then.”

And then he was gone with nothing but a fleeting caress on Kuroo’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo took the hours before Tsukishima return to collect himself.

When he got to his room, he wasted no time stripping and falling face first on his bed before proceeding to sleep for three hours straight. Then he awoke at one in the afternoon, showered and shaved, dressed, and ate a late lunch he had the hotel brought up to his room all the while thinking of Tsukishima and whether or not last night was a trick of his exhausted mind.

But the card is still in his coat pocket, Tsukishima’s name and personal number printed in simple font and his room number scribbled neatly by the side, and it is real as the feeling of the hand that caressed his cheek.

At quarter to three he phones the number in the card. Tsukishima answers after the second ring, tone relaxed and casual as if he knew it was him who will be calling before he even got a word in.

“Come up,” he says by way of greeting, no pleasantries, no unnecessary buffer, still the same no nonsense boy he knew. “The door is unlocked. Just come right in.”

Traversing the short hallway from the elevator to Tsukishima’s room, Kuroo felt more confident in himself than he did last night. He’s had the time to adjust and compose himself, something of a need for him every time he sees Tsukishima—especially after such a long time. It’s been years and the blonde still has the same striking effect on him. He really should be used to it by now.

True to his words the door to Tsukishima’s suite is unlocked and Kuroo frowns at the careless display. Tsukishima isn’t in the receiving area and he walks further in. He is about to call out when he hears a voice to the room on his left.

“In here.”

He follows the voice and came by the threshold of the suite’s bedroom. Tsukishima is sitting at a window sill seat with a luncheon table in front of him. He’s sipping coffee daintily as he peruses the afternoon papers in a silk pyjama bottom and only an open robe for a top. The light from the French windows seeping in illuminating his figure making him look almost divine.

Kuroo’s smile is wry as he takes in the scene. As he thought, he could never be used to it after all.

Tsukishima looks up from the paper to where Kuroo is leaning by the threshold. He straightens himself as he put his teacup down.

“Still as beautiful as ever,” Kuroo says. “To whom did you sell your soul to look like that?”

Tsukishima smirks before moving to pour the other man a cup.

“Do you still take your coffee black?”

“As my soul.”

“You say that and yet we both know that’s not true.”

Kuroo moves to take the seat adjacent to the window and drags it in front of him. He takes the offered cup and purposefully grazed his fingers against Tsukishima’s.

“You would know all about my soul wouldn’t you, Moonshine?”

Tsukishima didn’t chastise him for the use of an old nickname but he did get up to use the phone. Kuroo watches him cross the room, barefoot with his silk robe fluttering a little after him. He was half done with his coffee when someone came by to take the table away and then he waits for Tsukishima to finish his call. When he does, he turns to face Kuroo still sitting by the window, leaning against the table where the phone is he said,

“I actually spent the better part of an hour getting ready for you, you know.”

Kuroo takes in the silk pajamas and the robe again, the half mused up hair and Tsukishima’s face bare other than his glasses, and he smirks amused.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I can definitely see that.”

Tsukishima smiles at him—the kind of smile as if the past years never happened and they are still as they are in Tokyo, choices were never made, all their troubles are gone, and they are finally at peace where they are.

The phone rings and the moment is gone.

Kuroo sighs as he stood up from his seat to sit on the bed. Tsukishima looks up in slight alarm and a question in his eyes. He relaxes and nods when Kuroo gestures towards the bed finishing his call quick.

“Something for tomorrow?” Kuroo asks as he reclined on the soft mattress, his hands supporting him. “I expect you’re still very busy as ever.”

“Well, I do have a couple of shoots here for the whole week before I fly off to…London I think.”

“Hard to sit here alone with you and not kiss you.”

Then they were kissing. Kuroo sighs when their lips first touch. The first kiss tastes like ‘home’ and ‘finally’ and ‘it’s been so long’ all at once. Tsukishima pushes against Kuroo, cradling his face in his cold hands as he tips his head up to meet his lips. The bed dips as a knee is propped and Tsukishima is slowly lowering them down. Kuroo’s hands wound over Tsukishima’s waist, his hands against soft, warm skin as they fell down. His thumb mindlessly rubs circles on Tsukishima’s hip as he kisses him, his lips and tongue making Kuroo’s brain short circuit and fireworks dance behind his eyes.

Kuroo curses the need for air even as he tries not to chase the feeling of Tsukishima’s lips on his. The blonde’s hand is stroking his cheek and Kuroo is in a daze over the way golden eyes are looking at him.

“Your hair is still as atrocious as ever.” Tsukishima comments as he runs his other hand over Kuroo’s hair.

“We are now back at the summer training camp at the Shinzen third gym where we have Mr. Tsukishima Kei still as obsessed at my majestic mane as he was the first time he laid eyes on—

Tsukishima continues to stroke his hair even as he starts his jest only stopping to cover a laugh when Kuroo stopped and actually purred. Tsukishima kisses him again just because. Kuroo’s lips are a little chapped but still as soft and warm as he remembers it.

“Sorry. Are you tired?”

“A little jet lagged but I’m okay.”

“Liar.”

Kuroo pulls him down beside him. They kiss languidly until they were both breathless before starting again. Long limbs tangled together, Kuroo’s hands hot and everywhere as he explored what he can beneath Tsukishima’s robe. Tsukishima for his part contents himself in controlling the kiss and winding his arms around Kuroo’s neck and occasionally running his hands down over his clothed chest and torso. They stayed like that until the hands on Tsukishima’s sides stopped and he looks up to see Kuroo’s eyes drooping in sleep.

“You’re dozing off.”

“’m not. Just a little rest.”

He nuzzles against Tsukishima’s neck, pulling him closer and inhaling his scent lightly as the blonde strokes his hair again.

“You’ll fall asleep soon, I know you will. And you wouldn’t wake up until morning. It wouldn’t be good if someone sees you sneaking out of my room tomorrow.”

“You’re no fun.”

“The paparazzi hounding us will not be fun I assure you.”

 

Kuroo moves to kiss him again; slow and chaste before moving to pepper his face and neck with kisses. Tsukishima could feel every single one of them burning against his skin. Kuroo holds his gaze and he wants to melt with the intensity of it, like he would somehow disappear if he so much as blinked. It’s overwhelming and Tsukishima wants nothing more but to drown in him.

“Have I ever told you how lovely you are?”

“Once or twice.”

Kuroo chuckles, low and rumbling and nothing like the hacking hyena sort that is his actual laugh. He rubs their noses together and it prompts a laugh from Tsukishima by the sheer silliness of it. They kiss again before Kuroo pushes himself to sit with a grunt.

The blonde looks up at him through half lidded eyes and a lazy smile. He laments what could possibly be a nice night out walking through the picturesque Paris streets, his arm wound around Kuroo’s as they make their way back after a couple bottles of wine. For all that Kuroo crows about him being beautiful, he certainly misses just how stunning he looks with his hair mussed up, lips kiss bruised and the late afternoon light hitting his profile just right. He especially likes the dazed look in his eyes he gets after every time they kiss.

He reaches up to caress his cheek once again and smiles as Kuroo leans to it.

“You should go and rest.”

“Tch. So eager to get rid of me.”

Tsukishima walks him to the door and then, on a whim, just before Kuroo could open the door he says,

“Tell you what, you sleep off that jet lag and if you wake up early I’ll take you to the set tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll see you at the lobby at…?”

“Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“When am I ever?”

“Mhm. I could think of a few occasions.”

Kuroo steps out but not before sending him an impish grin and wishing him a good night.

“Good night, Tsukki.”

Impulsively, and probably  to wipe the grin off his face, Tsukishima reaches to pull him back and place a soft lingering kiss by the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t let anyone hear you calling me that or I will end you. Good night, Kuroo.”

 

* * *

 

They met at the lobby at half past six. It was Tsukishima who was half an hour late and Kuroo didn’t miss the opportunity to make a jibe at him.

“Six o’clock, don’t be late, huh?”

“Shut up. I was up late smoothing things out for my next shoot after this.”

They took the hotel car to get to Tsukishima’s studio. It was already set up when they got there and Tsukishima was whisked away to hair and make-up the minute he stepped foot inside leaving Kuroo to his own devices. Kuroo didn’t know what to expect from this shoot but he did took the time to brace himself for when Tsukishima exits and takes the spotlight.

The studio is alive and buzzing with people running around here and there. Kuroo makes a conscious effort to make himself scarce by a corner at least until Tsukishima comes out. He’s been in some of Tsukishima’s shoots in the past and knows his way around enough. Currently, there’s a model being photographed on what appears to be avant-garde couture. He recognizes the brand being modeled as well as the model posing for the camera. He’s seen him before on some of Tsukishima’s magazines from way back. Tsukishima joins him a little later and they watch as the model finishes the shoot.

Tsukishima is in a summer frock for an Elie Saab ad campaign to be released next month, the cut of the fabric flowing an inch just above his knee and fitting his form beautifully. His hair is tinted with shades of soft pastel pink at the ends; there is glitter on his eyelids and his cheeks, lips the color of the same soft pink and Kuroo has to make a conscious effort to avert his eyes.

“Are the heels really necessary?”

“They make my legs look nice."

 _'That they do,’_ Kuroo adds in his mind as he tries desperately to not stare at them. _‘That they do.’_

“Watch closely,” Tsukishima whispers to him as he was called for his turn. “I want your opinion. Everybody says I’m looking less cold and more—what was the word? Ah—sultrier in each shoot.”

“Have you? I haven’t noticed.”

“So you say.”

Tsukishima smirks down at him before sashaying to do his shoot and Kuroo calculates the chances that he will survive this day.

Because, look, he’s seen every magazine Tsukishima’s ever been featured on okay? And everybody who knows their two cents about this industry has got their head screwed on right when they say Tsukishima’s looking less like the Ice Prince and more of a Sultry Temptress with each new photo shoot.

By some miracle he survives the almost half an hour of Tsukishima never once taking is eyes off him as he strikes pose after pose. He knew he should’ve stayed where he was instead of standing closer to the shoot as Tsukishima asked. But then, how could he refused when golden eyes are directed at him pleadingly and long lashes are baited for added effect? Kuroo is nothing but human after all. Tsukishima then throws him another smirk as he finishes and leaves to change back to his casual clothes.

In the time it took Tsukishima to change, someone had mistaken Kuroo as one of the models. He did a valiant attempt to tell them he’s just one of the companions of one but they couldn’t understand English and he doesn’t know any French aside from the standard greetings. It wasn’t until he was seated in front of a vanity mirror did Tsukishima appeared to see what was happening.

“Kuroo, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know! I think they thought I was one of the models or something! Help me!”

In true Tsukishima fashion, he chuckled at Kuroo’s panicking and waited until one of the stylists took a brush to his hair before intervening. He explained, in straight and fluid French that had Kuroo’s ears zeroing on his voice and blocking all other noises around them, that he was his friend and that he was there with him.

Later when they finally exited the studio and the initial shock of the slight commotion wore off, Kuroo is all smug smirk and full of himself as they were making their way to the bistro they were to have lunch at.

“Being mistaken for a model—in Paris! Imagine that!” He hums thoughtfully as he bumps his shoulder with Tsukishima. “Maybe I should have become a model instead.”

“But then who will cure the people with neurofibromatosis and save them from further brain damage?”

“Eh, some other hotshot doctor will take care of it. I’m doing a world a disservice locking myself up in the operating room in scrubs.”

“Well,” Tsukishima starts, the corners of his lips upturned as he reaches for his hand to pull him close, “you are quite lovely.”

Kuroo blushes and Tsukishima lets out a quiet laugh as he intertwine their hands together. He doesn’t know what to say to that as he’s not used to Tsukishima outwardly praising him. Tsukishima’s hands is warm in his for a change, their fingers fitting perfectly against each other; he squeezes his hand lightly as he tries not to be too flustered at the fact that Tsukishima just called him _lovely._

 

* * *

 

“It’s a little late to ask but are you sure you don’t have anything planned for today?”

Tsukishima is slicing his salmon in bite size pieces before moving to butter up a piece of baguette. His movements are dainty and fluid and Kuroo marvels at how someone could make eating lunch look like art.

“Well, I do have that conference I was supposed to go to but it’s only the first day and I doubt I missed anything important.”

Kuroo moves to take a sip of Pinot Grigio before he notices the man across from him put down his utensils and frowning. Tsukishima hadn’t removed his make up from his earlier photoshoot after Kuroo mentioned that it looked good on him. His eyelids and cheeks are shining silver pink making it look like a glitter fae is frowning disapprovingly at him. It makes for an adorable visual.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take you away from your engagements.”

 _‘Of course,’_ Tsukishima belatedly realizes, _‘Kuroo has a reason for being here.’_ It’s a little late of him to consider that maybe he wasn’t here for a vacation. After all, it’s highly improbable that one of Tokyo General’s top neurosurgeons would fly off to Paris on vacation outside of the holidays.

And what does he do? Pointlessly drags him around to a photoshoot when he could be doing more important things and learning and sharing new ideas on neuroscience, how to save lives, and improve the quality of life of patients and—

“Oh, darling. Please don’t tell me you’re regretting inviting me out. It’s such a nice day for that.”

“I’m not. I just—I’d hate to be the cause of an inconvenience for you.”

“You ought to know by now that will never be true.”

“Still I—“

“Kei, please.” Kuroo moves to wipe off the bit of the salmon’s sauce by the corner of Tsukishima’s mouth and smiles at the pretty blush that spread on pale cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss a day with you for anything in the world.”

“I could’ve gotten that myself.” His blush doesn’t subside even as Kuroo retreated back.

Kuroo just hums as he refills their glasses. They are silent then as they finished their lunch, knees bumping under the small bistro table, their legs getting tangled.

It was when they were having coffee when Kuroo said something that made Tsukishima’s hands stutter as he was pouring cream on his cup.

“You mentioned something about London earlier?”

Tsukishima purses his lips. He finishes putting cream and sugar in his coffee before answering.

“Ah, yeah. The next location for the shoot will probably be there.”

“When are you leaving?”

There was a pause and Kuroo already knows he wouldn’t like the answer. He knew it this morning when he saw the heavy bags under Tsukishima’s eyes.

“Tomorrow in the afternoon.”

Tsukishima worries his lower lip. The flight was supposed to be today but he had put his foot down and demanded they let him stay in Paris for the whole shoot. But even if it was him, a day was all he could manage to negotiate.

“I see. Well,” Kuroo gently takes his hand across the table and runs his thumb over Tsukishima’s knuckles tenderly, “it’s a good thing I skipped today then.”

 

* * *

 

After lunch Tsukishima takes Kuroo around the common tourist spots of Paris.

Their first stop was The Louvre since it was nearest to where they lunched. Kuroo lets go of Tsukishima’s hands as they entered and points to a sign that says _‘Don’t Touch the Art’_ in response to Tsukishima’s confused look. It backfires when Tsukishima takes his hand anyway and tells him “It doesn’t apply if the art wants to be touched” upon which Kuroo laughs to hide his blush. They took a ton of pictures imitating the sculptures (Kuroo makes a pretty good imitation of Apollo [1] but Tsukishima absolutely refuses to play Daphne) and the paintings—

“Christ, Kuroo. Stop snickering. It’s a masterpiece for fucks sakes.”

“But, Tsukki! Look at him! How can you _not_ laugh? Oh, man. Bokuto would love this. Here. Take a picture of me with it.” [2]

“You are embarrassing.”

—until they had to make a hasty beeline to the exit after setting off a small alarm because one of them accidentally stepped over the line beyond the velvet rope of the Mona Lisa, of all things, trying to figure out if she was really smiling or smirking.

“She’s smirking at Leonardo, Tsukki, just look at her. I know what that smirk says, I’ve seen you smirk at me like that enough to know.”

“And what, pray tell, is Mona Lisa’s smirk saying?”

“That she’s gonna rip Leonardo a new one if he fucks up her picture because she’s been holding that pose for hours so she better look damn good.”

They were still arguing who actually set off the alarm by the time they reached the Notre Dame (but they both know it’s Tsukishima since he’s the one doubled over in laughter).

When they got inside of the church, they walked the long aisle to the front before Kuroo pulled them to sit at a pew three four rows from the altar. Tsukishima watches him curiously as he lets go of his hand to clasp them together as if in prayer in a temple.

“I’m pretty sure you have to kneel if you’re going to pray to this God."

“Oh, you’re right.”

Tsukishima watches him for a moment as he carefully pulls the kneeler down before kneeling. Kuroo turns towards him and pulls him down with him.

“You kneel, too, Tsukki.”

“I don’t even believe in this God let alone pray.”

“Still. Just for the experience.”

“Kuroo, that’s like mocking their religion.”

“They don’t know that. C’mon. Just kneel with me.” Kuroo smiles as Tsukishima kneels beside him and rests his elbows on the pew with a resigned sigh. “Besides, it’s not like I’m doing this just for the hell of it. I actually have something to pray for.”

“And what—“

“Not now, Tsukki. I’m praying.”

Kuroo clasps his hands in front of him and closes his eyes in prayer. Tsukishima just rolls his eyes at him and stares forward at the altar to silently admire the architecture. A couple of minutes later, Kuroo moves to sit and Tsukishima follows suit.

“When I was doing my fellowship in the States, I have this colleague who’s Catholic and he told me that they have this belief that whenever you visit a church for the first time you can make a wish or a prayer and it’ll come true. He said it’s silly but he also thinks it’s cool and it's not it's a bad practice so he does it anyway.” [3]

Tsukishima hums. “So, what did you pray for?”

Kuroo looks at him meaningfully before taking his hand once again and smiling in a way that reminds Tsukishima of long forgotten summers in Tokyo.

They walk to the Pantheon while they eat crepes they bought from one of the snack stalls along the way. Kuroo spent majority of their time lingering by Marie Curie’s crypt chamber literally gushing about the award winning scientist and Tsukishima watches and listens as he babbles away about her achievements and contributions to the science field. He bit a smile at the longing gaze his companion casted at Curie’s crypt chamber before they moved along.

They went to the Catacombes because Tsukishima remarked that since Kuroo likes crypts so much maybe they should check it out. At the look that Kuroo threw him asking if he was serious, Tsukishima replies with a smirk and a ‘What? Scared?’ upon which Kuroo sneered at him to ‘Lead the way.’ They got to the Catacombes with neither of them actually walking up the entrance and upon which both decided it’s not worth it and promptly turned back and decided to go to the Arc de Triomphe instead.

“Yeah—no. On second thought, maybe we should just—“

“Go? Agreed.”

They purchased their tickets to the Arc and got lucky enough to be included in a group of Japanese tourists who still had room for a group tour. They ended up not finishing the tour when Tsukishima pulled Kuroo to a secluded corner on the second floor and proceeded to kiss him until fireworks are dancing behind Kuroo’s eyes and their lungs were screaming for air. Kuroo complained that as much as it was hot being slammed and pressed to a wall by Tsukishima, the sculptures on the walls dug on his back painfully. Tsukishima apologized by shifting him away from the offending protruding walls to a more even surface and kissing away the pout on his lips. They stayed like that for some time before more touring groups started passing by. They had to pretend they were lost and finding their way via Tsukishima’s smart phone when a French tour guide asked them why they were huddled by a corner near a door that says _‘Personnel autorisé seulement.’_ [4]

It was nearing dark when they exited the Arc. It was such a night and the Paris streets are alight nicely as they walk to the Eiffel tower hand in hand.

Predictably, there were a lot of people wanting to see and go up the Eiffel Tower even at night time. They didn’t get to come up because there were already too many people and some have already recognized Tsukishima before they could even get to the ticket lines. They’ve had to stop a couple of times already because a number of people kept asking for a picture of him and an autograph and asking if he will be walking at next year’s Paris Fashion Week; there were even a couple of paparazzi. Kuroo was teasing him about being so famous they couldn’t even walk without someone asking for a picture or an autograph every five minutes before Tsukishima grabbed him by the wrist to make a hasty leave. He later laments how he wanted to take Kuroo to see Paris from above and have dinner at the 58 Tour Eiffel. Kuroo consoles him and tells him they could just have their romantic Eiffel Tower dinner some other time.

They ended up having dinner at a hole in a wall café they found tuck by a narrow street near in between the Tower and their hotel. They were supposed to go to Davé [5], because Kuroo had mentioned he misses Asian food and Tsukishima could really kill for some dumplings, before some paparazzi recognized him and they had to lose them by zigzagging through narrow busy streets. They were out of breath by the time they managed to get away but Kuroo held Tsukishima’s hand as he maneuvered them through random alleys neither of them knew where it would take them. A bubble of giddy laughter burst out of the blonde and before long they were laughing as they dodged people, hid in the crevices of the old Parisian architecture, and ran as fast as their legs could. The adrenaline rush followed them until they were seated in a booth by the window and neither could keep off the giddy smiles mirrored in each other’s faces.

They had a light dinner of Baked Camembert on fresh baguette and Blanquette de Veau as they talked about their friends. Kuroo tells him that Akaashi and Bokuto are thinking of getting married sometime of next year. It was Akaashi who popped the question sometime of last month and it was Bokuto who called him up wailing in happiness to tell him the news. Kenma just released his second video game. He’s excited but he’s a little annoyed at having to do promotions. Lev came back from Russia after two months of visiting his family there and he and Yaku are planning to go to the Bahamas in summer.

Tsukishima shares what he’s heard from his part. It was Akaashi who emailed him about their engagement and had demanded that he be available by the third quarter of next year. It wasn’t specifically the word he used but he knows Akaashi enough by now to know that _‘persuade’_ means Akaashi will personally wring his neck if he is not present at their wedding. Kenma did mention something about releasing a new video game when they met at Tokyo two years prior. Daichi’s company is doing well; he mentioned something about expanding to Kyoto at their last missive and that Sugawara just finished decorating their house in Miyagi. They're currently looking up properties in Kyoto should Daichi's business expansion push through. Asahi and Kiyoko had their second child last winter which made Yamaguchi and Yachi think of starting their own family. And Kageyama and Hinata are still on the National Team and he heard from them that Bokuto, Ushijima, and Oikawa are both on the running for Team Captain next year.

“Yeah, but I think either Ushijima or Oikawa will get it. I love Bokuto and all and he’s great but the two got him beat when it comes to keeping a level head under pressure.” Kuroo pops a piece of baguette slathered generously with the Camembert. “And anyway, I don’t think he’s gunning for it too much. If anything, he said he’s put in the running so the competition between Oikawa and Ushijima stays under control. He said it’d be cool to be captain but he’d rather just play and not have the added responsibility. Personally, I think Oikawa’s gonna get it.”

“You don’t think Ushijima-san can do it?”

“It’s not that I don’t think he can but more of Oikawa can do a better job at it—perfect for it even. He’s a people person, that guy, and better suited for press cons.”

“Bokuto-san is good with people.”

“Mm. Good point. Still think Oikawa would get it.”

“Wanna bet on that? My money is on Bokuto-san.”

“Since when are you the gambling type?”

The conversation flowed on as they ate dessert ( _tarte tatin_ , a French apple pie that Kuroo made a mental note to take some back home for Kenma) and made their way through another bottle of wine. They are halfway on their third bottle of Bordeaux and Kuroo is reminded of how chatty Tsukishima gets when he’s drinking. There is a slight tint to his cheeks from the alcohol and the corner of his lips is upturned just so as he tells him of a project he did for a small start-up organic clothing line in Turkey. Kuroo watches enamored and merely laughs when Tsukishima calls him out on the stupid grin on his face.

The streets are almost deserted by the time they decided to head back to their hotel. Both are grateful for the opportunity to stroll the beautiful Paris streets without the fear of Tsukishima being recognized.

Tsukishima confesses that despite having been in Paris many times before he hasn’t seen much of it until today. It’s just that he’s always busy whenever he’s here and when he does get the free time he just wants to rest and laze around his hotel room in his sweats.

“Tsukishima Kei in sweats and an old volleyball t-shirt. Wouldn’t the paparazzi love to get a picture of that. How much do you think they’ll pay per photo?”

“Asshole.”

“Shame you couldn’t enjoy it though. I mean, really? You’re here, like, every year and you’ve never explored the City of Love until today?”

“I’ve only been here four times including today. The last three I was only here for the Fashion Week and it’s not like I have a lot of free time then.”

“Still. Thrice and it’s only today that you’ve actually gone to see the Eiffel Tower. I bet you just looked at it from your fancy hotel window before.”

“You talk as if you know the place like the back of your hand. Aren’t you the same person who almost threw a tantrum because we couldn’t go up the Tower?”

“I did not ‘almost threw a tantrum.’”

Tsukishima just hummed as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets. Spring is ending but it’s still quite chilly in the evenings. At length he said,

“I don’t really feel like going by myself. They’re too beautiful to be enjoyed alone and people are almost never alone when they explore Paris. City of Love and all that.”

“What about friends from work? Beautiful people of your kind?”

Kuroo’s tone is teasing but Tsukishima doesn’t rise to the bait, jut shrugs as he turns to look at the cobbled stone path.

“It’s not the same.”

Kuroo turns to him at his words trying to catch his eyes but Tsukishima resolutely ignores him. His cheeks are still tinted pink from drinking. The glitter from his makeup earlier in the day still hadn’t receded and in the dim streetlights of the Paris streets he looked almost ethereal.

“Well, then,” Kuroo starts as he takes one of Tsukishima’s hands from his coat pockets and intertwines them, “aren’t you glad I came along?”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest when Kuroo pulls him closer by the waist.

 

* * *

 

When they got back to their hotel, Kuroo walks Tsukishima up until his hotel room. He was about to bid him good night and retire for the night when Tsukishima seized him by his coat lapels and dragged him inside his room. 

Tsukishima’s lips still taste like the red Bordeaux they had earlier and Kuroo wonders if this was still the alcohol working. But the glide of soft warm lips against him is slow and deliberate in a way that he knows the blonde is in control and knows what he’s doing. The hands that automatically planted themselves on the slim waist relaxes as Kuroo sags against the door he is currently being pinned against. He felt Tsukishima lick the seam of his lips pleading for entrance and Kuroo obligingly opened up with a sigh as he encircles his arms around the blonde and pulls him flush.

They kiss like that for what seemed like minutes and even then Kuroo swears they could have stayed like that the whole night if it wasn’t for the need for air. They were both breathless when they finally pulled apart, lips just mere centimeters away and still too close he could feel long golden lashes brush against his cheeks as Tsukishima blinks.

“Stay the night,” Tsukishima breathes against his lips, needy and breathless, and that was all Kuroo needed before latching their lips once again and pushing Tsukishima further in the room towards the bedroom.

Tsukishima lands on the soft mattress and he had a mere second to breathe before Kuroo’s lips are on his again caging him between his arms. He’s taken his coat off and loosened his tie, one of his hands teasing at the hem of Tsukishima’s shirt while the other caresses his cheek. A hand slips inside his shirt, touch hot as he runs it up his side making shivers dance across every inch of skin he touches. Tsukishima returns the favor and deftly made work with Kuroo’s shirt, greedily running his hands up and down his front, nails lightly scraping against skin and moaning softly as he felt the muscles flex beneath his fingers.

They pull apart and Tsukishima marvels at the sight in front of him. Kissed bruised lips parted breathless, some of the glitters from his cheeks had transferred to Kuroo making his flushed cheeks shimmer, his amber eyes are dazed and unfocused with desire and all Tsukishima could think is how beautiful Kuroo Tetsurou is. 

“Tetsurou,” the words are out before he could think “I need you.”

Kuroo’s eyes darkens before he pushes him back and Tsukishima crawls further in the bed all the while not breaking the kiss.

A knee was planted between his legs and Tsukishima moans as Kuroo’s thighs rubbed against his hardening crotch. He breaks the kiss to mouth at Tsukishima’s cheeks, down to his jaw and the juncture where his shoulders and neck meet before making his way up to lightly bite and suck on the sensitive spot just below Tsukishima’s ear. The sensation of Kuroo’s lips sucking and nipping at his neck combined with the friction of his clothed cock against his leg is enough to get Tsukishima worked up as he panted little moans against Kuroo’s ear.

The hand in his shirt is joined by another one as Kuroo abandoned his teasing and fully ran his hands up and down Tsukishima’s front, his calloused hands adding to the sensation and sending shocks of electricity to shoot down his spine. Tsukishima felt Kuroo smirk against his skin before he felt him pinch his nipples, his fingers twisting and toying with the now sensitive bud, making Tsukishima practically keen.

Tsukishima leans his head against Kuroo’s shoulder trying his best to control his moans at Kuroo’s ministrations. With shaking hands he reached to hurriedly unbuckle Kuroo’s belt buckle but one of Kuroo’s hand moved dangerously to the hem of his pants, his thumb dipping inside and caressing the skin just under the garter of his boxer briefs.

He heard him chuckle darkly at his poor attempts. Tsukishima wants some retribution for all of Kuroo’s toying but all it did was wrench a shuddering breath from him.

“Impatient.”

“Quit being a tease.”

“Oh, I’m the tease am I?” Kuroo pulls away to look down at him half incredulous and half amused. “Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing at the photoshoot earlier.”

“Hmm, yeah. That was fun.”

He makes a face as Tsukishima smirks but obediently shrugs his shirt off at the blonde’s insistence. Kuroo let him continue his earlier attempt at unbuckling his pants. A hand wrapped itself around his arousal just as Tsukishima successfully unbuttoned Kuroo’s pants and pushed it down to his thighs. He couldn’t remember feeling the man making work of his trousers but then again Kuroo has always been good with his hands.

Tsukishima arches his back as Kuroo tightened his hand around him and gave a few experimental tugs. He pulls him in for a kiss and Kuroo responds hungrily and urgently, the pace of the kiss a drastic change from the earlier languid ones. The hand wrapped around Tsukishima is being pumped in time to every glide of their lips and it was taking him everything to keep on kissing the man above him.

Kuroo broke the kiss smirking down at the dazed look on Tsukishima’s face. His glasses had gone askew, cheeks flushed, and writhing underneath him as he continued pumping him. He dipped down to pepper kisses along his chest, making sure to pay attention to pink nipples alternating between sucking and abusing them with his fingers, and then his torso before placing a lingering kiss by Tsukishima’s hip enjoying the disappointed whine that left the blonde’s throat when he stopped his hand.

“You bastar—ah,” Tsukishima grunted before gasping mid curse when Kuroo started pumping him again excruciatingly slow. The sadistic smirk on Kuroo’s face only served to arouse him more and Tsukishima doesn’t know who he hates more, himself or Kuroo. “Stop fucking—ah—stalling and use that mouth of yours.”

“Oh? Pray, tell, how?”

“Blow me.”

Tsukishima didn’t care how wrecked he sounded. He was so close, so fucking close, and Kuroo knew and he chose that exact moment to be a fucking asshole. The hand slowly pumping him stopped and he was about to curse Kuroo again when he was met with a wicked grin and amber eyes glinting of dark promises looking down at him.

“Gladly.”

 

* * *

 

Later after they’ve exhausted themselves and Tsukishima felt bothered enough by the dried cum on his stomach they found themselves soaking on the luxurious tub in the blonde’s ensuite bathroom.

Kuroo is leaning on Tsukishima as the latter washes his hair and styling it using the suds before Kuroo whined about the suds getting on his eyes. Currently, Tsukishima is running a sponge over him as he quietly lay against him.

“You’re awfully quiet. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Don’t be mean.” Kuroo says as he lightly pinches Tsukishima on his thigh.

“Penny for your thoughts then?”

“I’ve been thinking about the last time we met.”

The hand running the sponge stilled before Tsukishima dipped it in the water again and squeezed it over Kuroo’s body.

“Phnom Pehn, Cambodia. Five years ago. I had a photo shoot at the Angkor Wat and you were on a medical mission on a nearby village. You saw me on an elephant and then bought a ticket for the temple tour. We had to change locations because _someone_ tripped on an uneven path and caused a commotion with the other tourists. That someone also almost got heat stroke.”

“Was that what happened? Because I remember it was a kid who tripped and that someone helped her get back to her family and that someone most definitely did _not_ get a heatstroke but I know _someone_ who did.”

“You sprained your ankle and scraped your knee. They literally had to carry you back to the village where your medical team was so they could bandage your foot, oh, Deputy Chief of Medical Mission.” Tsukishima looked down at him incredulously amused. “And for your information, I did not get heatstroke.”

“You were passed out on a stretcher. The Deputy Chief of Medical Mission had to treat you after he got treated.” Kuroo deadpanned as he looked up at him from where his head is perched on Tsukishima’s chest.

“I was resting.”

“From getting heat stroke.”

“You and I remember Cambodia very differently.”

Kuroo laughs prompting a soft chuckle from Tsukishima as well.

“I do remember watching the sunset at the Independence Monument and strolling down the Riverfront Park. I remember going to Siem Reap and going to temples. You looked really good in that red _sampot seai sua [6] _and the maroon Pashmina you wore as a scarf around your head when it got too hot in the high noon. I remember having dinner and you calling me gross and twisted for eating snake meat—and again, it has nothing to do with some old stupid rivalry with Nohebi, okay. I remember you ate crocodile and shark meat and saying you liked it, you monster. I remember you being pulled up the stage with some of the audience to dance the _Robam Tep Apsara_ [7] with the other dancers and I remember you looking so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Kuroo smiles at the memory. He remembers Tsukishima’s adamant refusal before giving in and the confusion and concentration on his face as he tried to learn the steps and keep up with the dancers. He remembers him looking so radiant it looked like the other dancers were just his back up and Tsukishima was the main stage attraction. Everyone was looking at him by the time the dance ended. Even when he didn’t mean to Tsukishima has the tendency to draw attention to himself.

“Do you also remember the part where we almost missed our flights because you insisted on staying to watch the fireworks display?”

“I remember almost missing our flights because you pulled me in a kiss after the fireworks display and then again before we had to part ways in the airport.”

“Like I said, you and I remember Cambodia very differently.”

Tsukishima smiles as he perches his head atop Kuroo’s head their fingers intertwined on the latter’s torso. Kuroo thinks of the time passed and the likely possibility of things always being this way—fleeting meetings, stolen moments, clandestine rendezvous that mean nothing and everything all at once. Never at the same place and never where they should be. Always at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kuroo sighs. Still, Paris is the last place he could think off when meeting the person he once thought the world of—still thinks the world of. The irony is just too much.

“I didn’t see you when you went back to Japan two years ago.”

“It can’t be helped. You were in a fellowship in New York then. Kenma told me.”

“Lucky him.”

“Are you actually jealous of your own best friend?”

Kuroo pulls away from Tsukishima’s arms. He turns around to face him sloshing the water around the tub a little.

“I’m always jealous of people who can be with you even just for a day, Kei, and I’ll always be.”

He looks at him and Tsukishima watches drops of water drip from his hair to his face, follows it as it made its way back to the water—anything just to not look at intense amber eyes and to distract himself from the familiar way his name rolled off his tongue. How sly of Kuroo to say that, he thinks, and a little mean and a whole lot unfair because he must think Tsukishima selfish when he himself also made the same choice.

Kuroo looks down and takes his hands lifting them from the water. His hands feels a little pruny from having been in the water for so long. 

“We should…we should just really plan these things.”

Tsukishima doesn’t pull his hands away but he does muster up a smile, humorless and bland and so reminiscent of those self-deprecating ones Kuroo loathes to see on him. His next words are like a dull knife slicing through skin.

“But where’s the fun in that?”

They both know the things unsaid.

Why bother? It never worked the first time, nor the second, nor the third, and neither will the fourth or fifth. They both made their choices and it’s clearly not the other. It will never work no matter how many times they try to start over again because their choices will always be the same. Maybe they’re just not meant to be together after all. Maybe they’re not meant for something more. Maybe they should just content themselves with this—just fleeting moments and chance encounters. And this is fine—it should be fine. They shouldn’t dare hope or try for something more lest they hurt each other again. Kuroo should know better and Tsukishima is right to stop it before it even started.

Tsukishima stands to towel himself off. He hands one to Kuroo and grabs another one to help dry his hair with. Kuroo stays still as Tsukishima runs the towel over his hair.

“It’s better this way isn’t it? Keeps the thrill alive.”

The smirk on Tsukishima’s lips is forced, almost forlorn, and Kuroo leans forward to kiss it away.

 

* * *

 

When it comes down to it, Tsukishima would admit that he is as tired of this as Kuroo is.

Kuroo has never admitted it, never openly said it at least, but Tsukishima could feel it in the way he looks at him. He could feel it in the resigned way he sighs and the hunch of his shoulders. He could feel it every time their eyes lock at every new place, surprised and unexpected, relieved and glad yet wondering if this is the last and when will it end.

Tsukishima feels that same resignation as Kuroo drapes an arm over his waist and pulls him closer. He closes his eyes as Kuroo peppers small kisses at his nape, his breath hot against his skin.

“I love my job.” Kuroo stops his ministration and Tsukishima knows the smirk against his skin is wry even without seeing it. They both know this is a talk long overdue. “I know it’s not as important as yours but I’m good at it and I love what I do.”

“I know. I’d never ask you to choose.”

“You did before.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Tsukishima shifts to turn to face him.

“That was unfair, you know? Especially since you didn’t choose me either.”

“I would’ve if you let me.” Kuroo’s tone is not accusing.

“No. That would have been unfair to you I think.” Tsukishima moves to brush a stray of hair from Kuroo’s face before resting a hand on his cheek.

“I could’ve done the flights, you know, meet you halfway. We could’ve made it work.”

“But we couldn’t.”

They tried before. Oh, how they tried. They had been optimistic at first and for a while it worked. But Tsukishima is fast becoming one of the favorites of more and more designers and a rising darling in the fashion world; and Kuroo was starting to be recognized for his talent in the field and is on the running to becoming Head of the Neurology Department at Tokyo General. Tsukishima is never at one place for too long and Kuroo couldn’t just fly off to wherever he is at the moment just so they could be together for a few days. And maybe it was Kuroo’s unconscious petty attempt to get back at Tsukishima but he couldn’t just put his career and life on hold for someone who wouldn’t do the same for him.

There was a fight, once, and Tsukishima remembers the desperation in Kuroo’s voice, the hurt of choosing between the two things he loved the most and the hurt of Kuroo’s retaliation. Tsukishima remembers how Kuroo’s ‘I can’t do this anymore’ felt and Kuroo remembers Tsukishima’s hard dismissal of ‘Fine. Do what you want.’

It’s been years and they’re older now and know better. Maybe it’s time to try again. Maybe they could make it work this time. Or—

“Maybe we should just stop this.”

“What? Stop seeing each other altogether?”

But the thing about getting older is that it doesn’t mean they’ve shed their prides nor deflated their egos. Above all, it doesn’t mean they’ve gotten any less stubborn.

“Stop acting like we’re something more every time we see each other." 

And Tsukishima remembers something his mother told him years ago, that sometimes—sometimes, love is just not enough.

“Maybe we should.”

He wounds his arm around Kuroo and the latter pulls against his chest and tucks him under his chin. He places a soft kiss atop of soft blonde curls as Tsukishima buries his face at his neck.

Maybe they should just stop.

But not tonight.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, it is Tsukishima who wakes up first to the sight of Kuroo still sleeping soundly as he holds him.

He is not attempting to suffocate himself between two pillows as his normal sleeping position and as still the cause of his perpetual bed hair. He never does now whenever he and Tsukishima share the same bed. Tsukishima remembers a time waking up to a pillow against his face instead of the sight of Kuroo’s vulnerable sleeping face. He sighs, a fond smile making his way on his face as he trails his fingers lightly over the side of Kuroo’s. Almost a decade later and he still finds the man adorable in his sleep. Not for the first time, Tsukishima thinks of how wonderful it would be to wake up to such a sight every morning.

Kuroo awakes a little later and groggily smiles at the sight of Tsukishima smiling down at him. He shifts a little so he could look up at the blonde even as a side of his face nuzzles the soft pillows.

“You’re a real vision in the morning you know that? It shouldn’t be legal to look that good in the morning; they should lock you up.”

“A little early to start on the flattery don’t you think?”

“It’s never too early to tell you how beautiful you are, love.”

Kuroo pulls him down and Tsukishima lets him, shifting so his back is against his chest. They lay like that until Kuroo is awake enough to pepper kisses at his nape just like last night and until the soft sunlight filtering through Tsukishima’s curtains turns glaring.

It is Kuroo who mumbles ‘I love you’ against his skin as they lay together hours after waking up.

Tsukshima tenses against his hold briefly before relaxing again having anticipated it somewhat. It still didn’t soften the blow nor did it hurt less despite being fairly prepared and expecting. Kuroo always did have the uncanny knack of throwing him off.

He didn’t count on him finishing him this way though.

“I mean it.” Kuroo moves to turn him around to face him. Tsukishima makes the mistake of letting him. Kuroo looks at him and he knows what he is doing, knows the consequences, Tsukishima could see it in his eyes and yet—

And yet.

“I love you. Still. I always have and I always will.”

And damn him. Tsukishima wants to curse him for saying it, for putting him on the spot, for rocking the boat. They were doing fine as they are. They have an unspoken agreement that they are content with what they have. But it’s been years since Tsukishima heard those words and he didn’t have it in him to deny himself. He had always been greedy.

Kuroo, for his part, knows the damage he’s done. He can see it in Tsuksihima’s eyes and in the subtle shifts of his expression. And he admits that this is him being selfish. He’d break their unspoken truce and deliver the final blow. He’s not afraid, not when he has nothing to lose, not anymore.

But Tsukishima is quick to build back his defenses. He pretends to not acknowledge Kuroo’s words as he smiles and strokes his hair and his cheeks. Kuroo closes his eyes and relishes on the feeling of Tsukishima’s fingers against his scalp. He closes his eyes just so he didn’t have to watch him build his façade again.

“You’re going to miss your conference again if you don’t get up soon.”

“I don’t care. You have a flight to catch in the afternoon. I’d rather spend the remaining hours with you.”

Better than sitting his ass in a conference hall while his head and his heart are elsewhere. He would’ve missed the whole conference if it meant he could spend his whole week with Tsukishima.

“Kuroo…” There is a warning in Tsukishima’s tone but all Kuroo does is pull him closer and tuck him under his chin.

“Let’s just stay like this for a little while. Just let me have this. Let me have you for a little longer.”

Tsukishima sighs as he closes his eyes and inhales Kuroo’s scent, curling closer and eliminating any possible space between them further.

Sometimes he thinks Kuroo forgets how equally selfish he can be.

 

* * *

 

When Kuroo wakes up again it’s to the sound of the shower running and the loss of warmth beside him.

Kuroo remains how he is, lying down on his side with an arm over a pillow—a poor substitute to the warm and soft body he had in his arms earlier. He remains like this even as Tsukishima exits the shower and goes to get dressed, doesn’t move even when he hears the light padding of his feet against the lush carpet as the blonde goes about preparing for his leave. Kuroo doesn’t stir, doesn’t make a sign that he’s conscious and awake, he doesn’t open his eyes to watch Tsukishima leave once again.

The bed dips beside him and Kuroo clenches his jaw. His face is half buried in the pillows so Tsukishima doesn’t see. Kuroo feels long, cold fingers card through his hair and he clenches his jaw harder.

The bed shifts and Kuroo feels Tsukishima sigh, resigned, almost regretful but never quite enough to stay, before he feels soft lips against his cheek. It’s feels like an apology and something else and Kuroo fights the urge to grab Tsukishima and kiss him properly. He held his ground even when Tsukishima’s lips lingers longer than usual.

And then all too soon it’s over. Tsukishima stands from the bed and hauls his suitcases. The door opens and Kuroo hears the click of it closing shut and Tsukishima is gone.

Kuroo doesn’t see him off. He counts to ten before opening his eyes slowly and releasing the breath he’s been holding. He knows he needs to go back to his room in a while before someone comes up to clean the room. But the pillows and the sheets still smell like lavender with a light hint of vanilla and something distinctly smelling of Tsukishima.

He pulls the pillow closer to him and curls further in the sheets. He stays a little longer committing Tsukishima and what’s left of him to memory.

Later, after he’s returned to his room and has had time to collect his bearings, he goes to his conference. He goes about doing the things he has to do and then return home to Japan to continue his life. He goes on wondering when and where the next chance meeting will be, continues to wonder if this is how it’ll always be, and for how long, how many years, will pass by this time. Kuroo wonders for how long they can do this still, how long before they stop and call it quits and finally, _finally,_ decide whether to stop or start again.

And still, Kuroo hopes for a beginning rather than an end.

 

* * *

 

 A month later Tsukishima Kei is standing in the pristine lobby of Tokyo General.

Kuroo stops as he takes him in, inconspicuous amidst the buzzing hospital yet, by some force of nature and by that unexplained pull, he is still the first thing his eyes fell upon. Tsukishima turns around, spots him in the middle of bustling patients and doctors and medical professionals, everything else a blur except for the lone figure of him standing frozen in the middle. 

This time, it is Kuroo who makes the first step and this time Tsukishima meets him halfway.

“ _You_ would turn up here of all the people in the world.”

“Hello to you, too.”

The corners of Tsukishima’s lips are upturned in a half smile at the familiar greeting and Kuroo smirks at the other’s obvious attempt of containing it. 

“There are talks of my mother agency setting up a branch here in Japan. We’re still finalizing the details but I’m pretty sure it’ll be here in Tokyo.”

“Is that right?” A sudden belated thought occurred to Kuroo as he wonders why Tsukishima would be in the hospital of all places, unless— “What are you here for? I doubt you came here just to tell me that. You’re not sick are you?”

“No, I’m not. You can stop worrying. Is it so hard to believe that I came here just to see you?”

Tsukishima holds his ground and waits for Kuroo’s response to his open admission. He’s had a month to prepare for this and it’s taken all of his courage to come and seek the only man he’s ever thought the world of. He’ll take what he can get at this point. He’s tired of playing this game and he reckons Kuroo is too.

Tsukishima looks him in the eyes almost shyly but still defiant. His hands are intertwined in front of him and, though he is not fiddling with them, Kuroo picks up on the familiar nervous habit. They stood in the middle of Tokyo General in a kind of an impasse and they are both know it. Tsukishima just made his move. The ball is in Kuroo’s court now and he is suddenly made aware that whatever he does will decide if this is a beginning or an end.

Kuroo lets out a sound that is a cross between a sigh and a chuckle. He makes his move and Tsukishima lets out a soft gasp as Kuroo untangles his hands. He takes one hand in his, palms and long fingers slotting along perfectly, as he calmly tugs him to the hospital’s exit.

“I hope you haven’t eaten lunch because I’m starving and I know a good place nearby that has the best chirashi-zushi [8].”

“This better be the best chirashi-zushi I’ll ever have or you’re treating me to dessert.”

“Oh, Moonshine. Don’t I always anyway?”

Kuroo is smiling as he squeezes Tsukishima’s hand and at the sight of the massive smile threatening to split his face in half, Tsukishima let’s out a soft laugh and gently bumps their shoulders as they made their way out.

It’s a start and this time maybe they won’t have to end after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [[1]](http://www.louvre.fr/en/oeuvre-notices/apollo-chasing-daphne-and-daphne-chased-apollo) Apollo (chasing Daphne) by Nicolas Coustou; and Daphne (chased by Apollo) by Guillame and Coustou  
> [[2]](http://www.leonardodavinci.net/st-john-the-baptist.jsp) St. John the Baptist by Leonardo Da Vinci  
>  [3] This is something my mother told me. I come from a predominantly Catholic country and we have all these cultures and traditions (made up or otherwise) about it.  
> [4] Authorized Personnel Only  
> [[5]](http://www.messynessychic.com/2015/08/27/the-hush-hush-celebrity-cult-restaurant-of-paris) Davé - a nondescript Chinese restaurant ironically called Davé located in 12 Rue de Richelieu, 75001 Paris, France  
> [[6]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khmer_clothing) _Sampot Seai Sua_ is a monochromatic skirt with a band along the lower hem embroidered in gold or silver. Today, this skirt is more popular among Laotian women than among the Khmer.  
> [[7]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robam_Tep_Apsara) _Robam Tep Apsara_ is the title of a Khmer classical dance created by the Royal Ballet of Cambodia in the mid-20th century under the patronage of Queen Sisowath Kossamak.  
> [[8]](https://www.thespruce.com/chirashizushi-2031481) _Chirashi-zushi_ is known as scattered sushi and is served on plates or bowls with colorful toppings
> 
>  **Notes:**  
>  -The next day’s tabloid headlines read: **_"Supermodel Tsukishima Kei dating Tokyo Gen’s top neurosurgeon: Confirmed?! More on page 6."_**  
>  -Tsukishima makes an effort to stay at Japan as much as he could, even moving to his mother agency’s branch in Tokyo after it has been established. Kuroo makes it a point to be at all of his shows as much as his schedule and duties permits.  
> -They go to Paris together during Fashion Week and they finally managed to explore Paris and have dinner at the Eiffel Tower. They mostly travel at ease until people recognize Tsukki and they have to run and hide from the paps. Eventually, they just settle to wearing light disguises so they can walk around freely. Kuroo never fails to tease Tsukishima about it but he’s secretly super proud he’s dating a Supermodel.  
> -They get married in Tokyo! A small but beautiful ceremony with just their closest friends and family. Kuroo cried (obviously) because “I can’t believe I’m marrying a Supermodel.” 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always much appreciated! :)
> 
> You can check out my other works [here](http://wwww.miya-twins.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1592826/proserandom). Hit me up at [Tumblr](https://www.miya-twins.tumblr.com)!


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